


The vetting process

by m_findlow



Category: Torchwood
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 14:22:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16725066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m_findlow/pseuds/m_findlow
Summary: Fate recruits Torchwood's next employee.





	The vetting process

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Juliet316](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Juliet316/gifts).



Jack sighed and crossed his arms over in the opposite direction to the way he'd had them moments ago, and slumped further back into hard plastic chair. They were clearly designed to be uncomfortable so as to prevent people from hanging around too long. He supposed if you had to be here, at the Cardiff Central police station, you probably didn't want to hang around too long anyway.

Today, Jack didn't have a choice. They'd spent three days tracking down the item, only to discover it in the hands of a local pickpocket. The thief was now in custody, his various pilfered possessions now also in lockup. The evidence locker as it turned out. But Jack had persisted, and he wasn't about to leave without it.

He idly watched the everyday masses going about their everyday business. Missing persons, stolen cars, people coming in to defend and deny various traffic infringements, and an elderly couple testing the patience of the front counter clerk in having umpteen powers of attorney duly signed and witnessed. Judging by the look of them, they were probably going to be needing them soon.

It certainly wasn't the blood pounding excitement of the Vegas Galaxy, but it had its own quaint charm that Jack had to admit, he was beginning to enjoy after all these years. Besides, there were few things more entertaining than a few local Welshmen having an argument. He laughed when they devolved into mudslinging matches, each cursing the other with rude names in Welsh. He didn't have to understand the language to get the gist of it.

Then she walked in.

She was tall and slender, shapely brown legs leading down from her trench coat covered torso. She had long, curly black hair, and a face that was handsome rather than pretty. Still, Jack watched her eagerly. She was the most attractive thing in the station, but she didn't have much to compete with.

Just as the elderly couple were shuffling away, satisfied that their affairs were all now in order, the clerk caught sight of her too. 'Not you again,' the officer at the front counter sighed.

'Yes, me. Haven't you missed me, Harold?' She smiled sweetly at him.

'Hardly,' came the gruff reply. 'I suppose you're following the bloke we just pulled in?'

'His name is Steven Blakely. I'd like to know how long you intend keeping him here.'

'And as you aren't his attorney, your access rights are nonexistent. I don't have to tell you. Which you already know.'

'That's okay,' she smiled. 'I might just wait here for a while.' 

'No, you bloody well won't. Off with you. Go chase some other ambulance.'

She leaned across the counter dramatically. 'But my dog Geraldine has gone missing!' Her voice lifted an octave and sounded weepy. It caught Jack's already amused attention by the throat. 'Surely you must have some paperwork I can fill out to report her missing? She's all I have in this world.' She fixed him with a doe-eyed stare, bottom lip trembling just slightly. An Oscar winning performance if ever Jack had seen one.

'And how many times has your dog gone missing and mysteriously come back this month, Ms Costello?'

'Well, she's very naughty. And I'm living all on my own with no one to look after her when I'm out.'

The officer rolled his eyes, huffed and went to fetch the requisite paperwork and a clipboard. It was more than his job was worth to out her as a liar. Let her burn daylight filling out the forms. It wouldn't be his job to follow it up. Some other green copper would get that lucky task.

He passed it back to her through the perspex grating. 'Take your time to make sure all the details are complete. I'm sure you won't rush given the severity of the situation.'

'Thank you.' She took the clipboard and made her way over to the chairs, purposefully spotting the handsome man in the long coat, and making sure to sit next to him. She might be on the job, but there was no point in throwing away a perfectly good opportunity when it presented itself so easily into her lap.

She smiled coyly at him before sitting down, and making a show of reading the papers, and crossing one long leg over the other so that it pushed the layers of coat and skirt out of the way.

'That was quite a show you put on,' said Jack.

'I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean,' she responded, purposefully not looking up.

Jack grinned to himself, he always liked it when they played hard to get. 'On the contrary,' he said, leaning closer toward her, 'I think you know exactly what I mean,' he whispered, calling her out on the obvious bluff.

She put the pen down and fixed him with her eyes. It was the first time she noticed how stunningly blue they were. 'And you are?' she asked, indicating his name, rank and serial number.

'Captain Jack Harkness.' He drawled out the reply in his most charming accent. 

'You're not from around here.'

'Neither are you,' he replied to her clipped English lilt. 

'And so what's an American doing in a police station in Wales?'

'Collecting stolen property.' She didn't let her gaze leave his. She knew from the way he looked straight at her, unerringly, that he'd delivered her a complete fiction, and had no qualms about it. He also knew that she knew he was lying. That turned her on.

'You still haven't told me your name,' he persisted.

'Suzie Costello. Private investigator.'

'Nice to meet you, Suzie Costello. And you're obviously popular with the local constabulary?'

Her look was confident and assured. 'They have their uses. But they're not always big on sharing.'

Jack chuckled. 'Tell me about it. And the guy you're following?'

'White collar scumbag,' she replied, crossing her arms and legs simultaneously. Jack took the body language the way it was intended.

'Love your job, do you?' Jack laughed.

'Bored of husbands and housewives, worried about their adulterous other halves. I don't see what the problem is to be honest. If you're not getting it at home, wouldn't you go elsewhere?'

'Loyalty has its place,' Jack observed, wanting to see how she reacted to his comment, unaware that he was vetting her.

'Loyalty and monogamy are different concepts.'

'Ah, so you do know the difference,' Jack joked.

'And this pays the bills without having to suck up to some smarmy fifty something bloke going through a mid life crisis, whose only reason for hiring you is so he can spectate as your legs walk past his office all day.'

'Being the boss does have it upside,' he agreed. 'I have first hand experience.' 

'I bet you do.' 

He smiled. He liked her. He certainly hadn't been looking to recruit. Then again, he and Tosh between them could only handle so much, and this woman had a determination and a spunkiness about her that he liked. She reminded him a bit of himself. Authority had its place, but if it got in the way of a case, you needed to employ more creative methods to get the job done. She'd shown she had those qualities in spades.

'Do you fancy getting a drink some time?' She asked the question in such a way that she already expected the answer to be yes. He fancied she was probably also after more than just a drink and some scintillating conversation. Both of which he was happy to provide, and perhaps more depending on how things panned out.

Jack smiled at her knowingly. 'How about I go one better and offer you a job?'

'A job? Doing what?'

At that point, a young female office announced the name Mr Smith, and Jack rose to collect the brown paper bag that she offered him. He thanked her with a dazzling smile and she blushed under his attentions.

He turned back to face Suzie as he headed towards the door, pulling up his lapels to brace himself for the cool Cardiff air outside. 'You're the private investigator. Why don't you find out? If you can find me, the job is yours.'

'Challenge accepted,' she replied as he bustled out the door.

She looked down at the forms in front of her, and wrote the name Captain Jack Harkness in the space on the top corner, before pocketing the piece of paper and walking out, her current client forgotten.


End file.
